Date: Wed, 28 Dec 2011 19:40:28 -0500 (EST)
From: Adoration
Subject: Aunty?s Sex Slave
Aunty's Sex Slave (F/M, F/F, D/s, BD, Interracial, WaterSports)
by adoration
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Aunty's Sex Chapter 1
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Part 1:
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It was somewhat ironic, I thought, as I licked obediently at my aunt's
moist pussy while she lay on her poolside recliner in the dry Arizona heat,
that my predicament had been caused by a female domination magazine entitled,
very appropriately, "Mistress Knows Best". Perhaps I'd better explain,
because it all happened more than 15 years ago - in 1989.
I was 20-years-old and my Aunt Pat 18 years my senior, but she was a
stunningly built, still hugely attractive brunette. I had been sent out to Pat's
superb lifestyle block on the outskirts of Flagstaff by my step-mother,
Karla, a gorgeous but haughty 35-year-old, who had just married my father, a
wealthy industrialist. Pat was her older sister and had attended the
wedding in London where we had chatted over a glass of bubbly at the "wedding
breakfast" and she insisted I call her "aunty". Silly, really, but I found it
rather amusing.
The holiday was to last for a month, before I went back to learn the ropes
at my father's industrial empire. On arrival at Los Angeles International,
I had taken a cab around the area while waiting for my connecting flight
to Flagstaff.
During the drive I spotted an adult bookstore, got the cabbie to stop, and
it was there I purchased the magazine that was to change my life. It was
wrapped in clear plastic, of course, but the title - "Mistress Knows Best"
- and the picture of the beautiful PVC-clad dominatrix on the title page
was enough to persuade me to part with $7. It was the best $7 I ever spent!
The magazine was published - I know because I still have it - by Holly
Publications, and consisted of four photo spreads and the one entitled "Wild
With Desire" starring the stunner on the cover was cock-raising material.
Anyway, I climbed back in the cab and was soon in the little Western
Airlines commuter plane on the flight to Flagstaff. Aunty Pat, a tallish
brunette with superb 40-inch breasts, was there to chauffeur me back to her
spread, some miles out of town. It was a luxurious, secluded place, with a
magnificent swimming pool and large, lush lawns.
On arrival, Aunt Pat threw my only bag - I travelled light, just some
underwear, swimming trunks, jeans, T-shirts and shirts - onto the bed in the
guest bedroom and we went into the huge kitchen where she fixed me lunch.
Sadly - no, make that fortunately - she pressed a couple of Coors beers on me,
or maybe three.
By now I feeling a little light headed and told her I needed a nap -
London to LA was a long flight. She smiled and kissed me lightly on the cheek.
She smelt of wheat, and I wanted her. But I also wanted to get away from her
- I was desperate to check out my domination magazine, of course. Soon I
was on the bed, naked, hand on my eight-inch uncut cock, stroking myself as
I perved over the pictures, especially the "Wild With Desire" ones. Then,
I must have fallen asleep.
The next thing I knew I was awake. Judging by the light in the room it was
well into the evening. I sat bolt upright and there - sitting in an easy
chair by the foot of the bed was Aunty Pat. She was, you guessed it,
thumbing through "Mistress Knows Best". I scrambled for the sheet to cover
myself, but it had fallen off the foot of the bed. Then I looked at Aunty Pat and
suddenly felt my penis start to stir. She was a stunning sight.
Her lovely big breasts were covered by a shiny red satin brassiere, with
black edging. On her hips was a shiny black PVC miniskirt. One leg was
crossed over the other, displaying a wonderful expanse of bronzed thigh.
She was wearing blood red high heels. I pulled a pillow and plunked it
across my groin to hide my swiftly rising cock. Pat looked up at me and smiled.
Then she put her hand on the table beside her chair and threw a bundle at
me. "Have a look at those, you naughty boy, you," she laughed, and I saw
the things I took to be paper were, in fact, about a dozen garishly-colored
Polaroid prints. Each showed me, cock in hand, perving on my purchase. "
Aunty Pat," I tried to bluster, "you've been spying on me!"
Pat laughed, laying the magazine down. "On the contrary - my housekeeper,
Anita has been doing the spying! Anita, get in here!"
Into the bedroom stepped a hard-faced but quite attractive raven-haired
woman, some years younger than my aunt. Her beautifully bronzed body was nude
save for a black satin garter belt, shiny black stockings and black
high-heeled shoes. Her breasts were smaller than Pat's - later I found they were
34-inch beauties - and her pubic bush was jet black and trimmed back to
allow a clear view of her piss flaps peeping below the crew-cut hair style.
Pat introduced me: "This is Anita Armitage, my housekeeper and partner -
she took those pictures through a crack in the door which leads into my room
adjoining this. Being a faithful employee-confidante, she thought she
should show them to me. Rick - you really are a very naughty boy, aren't you?"
"No I'm not," I protested, "I'm just a perfectly normal, highly-sexed
20-year-old who enjoys looking at pictures of pretty women!" Pat sniggered. "
Oh yes, pretty women - look what one of them is saying - "Do you want to
worship my tits, my arse, my cunt - well on your knees, slave'. Lovely. You'
re a freak for femdom, Rick, admit it!" I lowered my face, Aunty Pat had
me there, and to my great relief, I poured it out.
"Well, since it's pretty obvious, yes, I do fancy being a wonderful woman'
s sex slave, aunty. You win!" I confessed. Pat grinned at me, and threw
another magazine across. "And take that silly pillow away, Rick, we both know
what you look like now!"
Sheepishly, I put the pillow behind me, on top of the other two and sat
propped up, my cock still stiffly standing high. The magazine that Aunty Pat
had tossed over was a German publication, with a young woman wearing a
bright red PVC playsuit featured on the cover. It was called something "Sklaven
der PVC" or some such thing. "Look at the center-spread," said my "aunt".
When I got there I saw a spread of some eight or nine shots of Aunty Pat -
named by the magazine "Mistress Helga", but it was obviously Aunty Pat.
She was erotically clad in a black PVC playsuit, which was open-fronted and
exposed her magnificent 40-inch superstructure. The suit had a zip which
ran from the navel back to the small of the back. In every shot, the suit was
unzipped, exposing Pat's brown-haired pussy. In every shot she was posing
with a many-tailed flogger. By the time I'd finished scanning the pictures
I was as stiff as a policeman's nightstick!
"I was given the playsuit after the shoot," Pat informed me, looking with
interest at my hard-on. "Like me to model it for you?" I nodded so
enthusiastically it's a wonder my head didn't part company with my shoulders. "
God yes," I breathed. Pat smiled and turned to Anita. "First let's see if
he's going to be up to our demanding standards, shall we Anita? Try him out!
" With that, the raven-haired beauty stepped to the side of the bed,
kicked her shoes off and climbed onto the mattress.
Placing a knee on either side of my upper body, Anita lowered her minge
onto my unprotesting mouth. Her semi-shaved snatch was wet with sex juices
and slithered across my hungry lips.
Soon my tongue was sliding into her crevices, flicking against her rosebud
anus, then into her sopping wet cunt, then up to her clitoris until, only
a minute or two after she had begun her face-sitting exercise, Anita pumped
even faster and roared to her climax.
Slipping off my and replacing her shoes, Anita bent over and gave my
mouth, moist from her musk, a gentle kiss on the mouth and reported: "
Magnificent, madam, I think he'll do quite well."
"Wonderful," said Pat, rising from her chair and smoothing her mini over
her lush buttocks. "Welcome to our humble abode, Rick. It looks like you'
re in for a month of sex slavery!"
Part 2:
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Lying back on the bed, my stiffy pointing towards the ceiling, I had hoped
that my Aunt Pat would follow the example of her housekeeper-cum-partner
in sitting on my eager face. My hopes, though, were soon dashed.
"I'm going to change, Anita," announced the busty 40-year-old. "Take him
down to the games room and play something gentle with him till I'm ready."
The raven-haired beauty smiled sweetly at me and purred: "It'll be a
pleasure madam." Then holding out her hand, she invited: "Come with me,
Master Rick, there's a room I know you'd like to see."
I took her hand and acutely aware of my jutting ramrod, walked with Anita
out of the bedroom and down a long corridor in the sumptuous home. At the
far end of the house, away from the living quarters was a narrow, metal
spiral staircase. Anita led the way down.
At the bottom was another long corridor which obviously ran beneath the
house, lit at varying distances by harsh strip lighting. The first room we
came to had hung on its large wooden door a little riding crop. "Welcome to
the games room, Master Rick," said my escort, throwing the door open.
I stepped into a lushly-carpeted and opulently appointed room. Scattered
along the walls were leather couches, leather easy chairs were dotted
around. There was also a padded leather bench, complete with straps and at one
end a pair of stirrups. What was obviously a whipping stool stood off to one
side. On the walls hung various and varied implements, such as whips,
floggers, paddles, canes and so on. It was, I realised immediately, an extremely
well equipped torture chamber.
Anita stepped over to an easy chair and settled down in it, throwing her
thighs over the arms, displaying her lovely pussy to my fixed gaze. "Madam
said something gentle, so you may as well get used to pleasuring me, Master
Rick," she smiled, indicating I should drop onto the carpet.
I moved my mouth to her minge and began to work at providing her pussy
with another orgasm. Her sex smelled strongly of feminine musk, heady and
intoxicating. I lapped and laved at her labia lips, then her cunt, then her
clit. Anita dropped her legs over my shoulders, pinning me more securely. "Don'
t forget my arsehole, arsehole," she commanded. Then, after a small
chuckle added:
"Sorry, Master Arsehole!"
My adoration of her pussy was soon paying dividends, when I heard the door
to the games room open. I kept up my cunnilingual task, but was aware that
Aunty Pat was now standing just behind me. Then, with a roar and a groan of
"Yeeees", Anita announced her orgasm.
"Up you get, Rick," I heard Aunty Pat command, and I rose to stand before
her, prick jutting up proudly. What I saw made my penis stand out even
more stiffly, if that was possible!
Aunty Pat, true to her word, was now modeling for me the PVC playsuit she
had appeared in for the German magazine shoot. I gaped, open mouthed, at
her wondrous breasts which I had previously only lusted after in photographs
and bra-clad glory.
The lush 40-inch boobs were standing up in glorious uplift, the nipples
erect in the air-conditioned torture chamber. At her pussy, the hirsute
appearance in the German porno magazine had been replaced by a shaved pubis, in
which only a slight wisp of sandy, light brown hair remained on her
prominent mons.
On her legs, Aunty Pat was wearing black leather boots which came
gloriously high - half-way up her sun-tanned thighs. On her arms were black PVC
gloves which came up to her elbows.
Pat grinned at me: "Well, Rick, don't just stand there, say something!" I
gulped, then gathered my thoughts: "You are the most stunningly sexy sight
I've ever laid eyes on." She seemed impressed. "And I suppose you would
like to perform some body worship adoration on this `sexy sight', would
you, my darling?"
I fell to my knees in what I hoped would be a suitably submissive pose,
staring up at her lovely thick piss flaps. "Ohmigod, yes, yes, please, aunty,"
I was almost pleading.
Pat laughed and then helped me to my feet. "Of course you may, my dear
Rick, but it will be a special form of body worship - one which I hope will
amuse you." Then, turning to Anita, she announced: "Get out some of that
perfume for Rick - what do we call it?" Anita responded: "Jean Patou by Pat,
I think you're referring to, madam." "Ah yes," said my aunt, "one of the
more exotic perfumes, I think."
Anita smiled and went to a refrigerator that I had not noticed before,
standing in the far corner of the chamber. She returned holding a large glass
container containing almost a pint of perfume, with an atomizer attached to
its neck.
"Now, Rick, we'll play some body adoration games. First, I am going to
permit you to worship five places on my body - can you guess where they are?"
"Er, no aunty," I almost whispered. "Come, come, Rick," she chided me, "
use your imagination for crying out loud! Where would you like to lick me?"
I gulped, Then waded in: "Your breasts, your buttocks and - er, your pussy
aunty." Pat mockingly put her hands together in one sarcastic clap. "See,
it was easy, wasn't it?"
Then turning to her accomplice, Pat instructed: "My left breast first,
Nita." The raven-haired nude sprayed a film of perfume across Aunty Pat's
large left globe. "Ouch," she winced, "that's so goddamn cold. OK Rick, get
to work."
I stepped to her side and lowered my mouth to her breast, then paused,
inhaling the aroma from her bosom. "Get on with it, Rick," she commanded, "you
'll enjoy it, promise!" I gulped back a protest and ran my tongue all
over her lush, large melon, confirming my worst fears. The "perfume" Anita
had sprayed on Pat's breast was urine - chilled urine, but urine nonetheless.
"Come on, Rick," Pat commanded, sensing my reluctance, "there are sex
slaves around the world who would pay thousands to perform the task you're
enjoying right now - put some fucking enthusiasm into it!"
I ran my tongue all over her gleaming globe, then straightened. "See,"
she laughed, stroking my cheek with her PVC-gloved hand, "it wasn't so bad,
was it?" "No, aunty," I mumbled, still tasting the saltiness of her "
perfume" piss.
"Good," said Aunty Pat, "now we can proceed to the right breast - Nita, do
the honors!" The nude partner in punishment sprayed a liberal amount of
piss on Pat's other breast and once more I bent to the task, this time being
careful not to upset my dominating aunty.
The next target Anita Armitage sprayed for my worship was Aunty Pat's left
buttock. I knelt and licked and laved at the liquid, now aware of a
marvelous pussy aroma coming from Pat's pussy. Then the right buttock was
similarly anointed.
"And now for the part we've all been waiting for, eh Rick?" Pat said from
above me as I completed my buttock worship. "Yes, aunty," I replied, by
now becoming somewhat more accustomed to the tanginess of the perfume Anita
was spraying onto Pat's body.
Aunty Pat walked over to a large couch and placed her left foot up on the
leather, thus spreading her snatch invitingly for Anita to apply the "
perfume". I watched with a mixture of fear and excitement as the dark-haired
beauty performed the spraying. Finally, she stood back from Pat's pussy and
my aunt called out: "Quickly, darling, it's cold and I want to feel the
heat from your tongue!"
Swiftly I obeyed, kneeling in front of her glorious figure. My tongue
licked at the "perfume" and tasted a combination of her chilled piss and the
wonderfully tasty juices from her sex.
This was by far the most appetizing part of the task, as the sex juices
combined with the urine spray to provide almost an intoxicating liquid. I
laved eagerly, encouraged by Aunty Pat's comments: "Oh, Rick, that tongue is
so hot, yes, eat me, lick me, let me come!"
I continued my task, and then Pat pushed my head back. "Nita," she
gasped, "freshen my minge up, Rick must have licked all the perfume off by now!"
Anita obliged, then I went back to work, my now eagerly sucking and
lapping at aunty's sex.
Soon groans and moans flooded from my aunt's lips and with an ecstatic "
Yeeeees", she grabbed my head and graunched her groin against my face as she
shuddered to her climax.
I stood and felt Aunty Pat's arms enfold me. "There, darling," she
smiled, kissing me strongly on my piss-perfumed mouth, "that wasn't so awful,
was it?" I had, to my total surprise, to admit that no, it wasn't.
Aunty Pat grinned wickedly. "Of course not, in fact I suppose it was so
nice you'll volunteer to do it with Anita, won't you?"
I looked across at the housekeeper. She was already handing the by-now
half-empty atomizer bottle across to Aunty Pat ......
Aunty's Sex Slave Chapter 2:
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Part 1:
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I hung suspended in the metal flogging frame, my wrists held in the top
corners beneath the cross bar by sturdy leather restrainers. At the base of
the frame my widespread ankles were similarly bound. The height of the frame
meant that my toes were just touching the smoothly cut lawn beneath me.
The frame had braces at the base extending to two small wheels on each side,
which made the entire contraption portable.
I had been placed into this position of bondage on the first full morning
of my month's holiday at Aunty Pat's secluded Arizona spread. After
breakfast, which I had consumed in the nude while Aunty Pat and the 30-year-old
Anita had worn provocative little bikinis, Anita had made me drag the frame
out from the large, four-car garage adjoining the luxury home.
When the raven-haired beauty had me attached to the frame she had gone
into the house and returned with a bowl of warm water, a shaving brush, safety
razor and scissors. Now, hanging in the wonderfully dry Arizona heat, I
had been shaved of body hair from my armpits, around my nipples, from my
thighs and calves. Anita had also shaved all the pubic hair from my scrotal sac
and my stiff 8-inch cock, while cutting the bush on my pubic bone back to
a really short crew cut.
The bikinied woman had then lathered the front of my body liberally with
suntan lotion and left me hanging there. Some 30 minutes later she
re-emerged from the house to turn the frame around so the sun's rays now beat on my
back, which also received a coating of lotion. "Another half an hour and you
'll be ready for madam," Anita informed me, stroking my cock gently
before leaving me alone again.
Finally, my Aunty Pat stepped out onto the lawn and moved in front of my
helpless, naked body. The lush-breasted 38-year-old was again dressed to
arouse and I felt my cock stirring as I gazed at her.
On her head a broad-brimmed black leather sombrero sheltered her face from
the sun. A black latex bolero jacket, which was buttonless and
consequently could not be closed across her lushness, hardly covered her 40-inch
breasts. Her midriff was bare, her pussy lips clearly visible. On her feet were
knee-high black leather riding boots, on her hands shiny black leather
gloves.
Aunty Pat plunked my scuffed Nike trainers and a pair of white sox on the
grass, then dropped what looked like stirrups and a rubber bit and reins
beside them. "Let's get you out of that uncomfortable position, darling,
you look exhausted," she said, expressing exactly what I felt. I stretched my
arms and legs when I was finally freed to remove the numbness. "Trainers
and sox on," I was instructed.
The next thing I knew, as I was still bending tying my laces, Aunty Pat
draped the leather strap attached to the stirrup across the top of my back
and placed the red rubber bit with its reins in my mouth. "Squat," she
instructed, and I went into a sort of baseball catcher's crouch.
Aunty Pat then carefully straddled my upper back, slipping first one
booted foot into a stirrup, then the other. I felt her weight press down on me
and I felt a dampness just below the nape of my neck. She was, I was
delighted to feel, aroused! "Now get up, slowly!" she ordered me. Slowly I rose
to my full height, my body straining as I bore Pat's weight, my hands
clasping the leather at her booted feet to aid in maintaining my balance. I
swayed slightly, then steadied myself.
Digging her heels gently but firmly into my upper hips, Aunty Pat called
out "Walk on", and I took my first steps as her human pony. A regular gym
worker, although no muscle-bound body builder, I soon found that by careful
stepping I could transport her.
Soon we were quite some way from the house and then, to my horror, I saw
Aunty Pat was steering me towards two young women -- I took them to be in
their early 20s -- who were working on a cactus garden area well away from the
property. I shook my head in the reins, violently, but Aunty Pat laughed at
me.
"Don't worry, Rick," she said, soothingly. "My hired Latino help --
Conchita and Pepina, by the way -- are devout lesbians. They're far more
interested in me than they will be in you."
Despite this I felt my penis start to stir as we neared the ladies, who
were both clad in brief leather shorts and black leather bras which pushed
their small, firm breasts into high uplift. When Pat reined me to a halt she
chatted with the girls, issuing instructions for their chores on the
property that day.
As she spoke to one, the other walked behind, surveying my sweating body.
Coming around to face me, the girl told Aunty Pat: "E `as a nice arse,
mistress." Pat laughed: "You and Conchita do a good job this week, and I may
let you flog it later!" The other one, Pepina, obviously, sniggered. "No,
mistress, we would be too `ard on him, not gentle like you!"
Aunty Pat waved a gloved hand and I walked from the girls work station,
acutely aware that my cock was swaying stiffly, betraying my interest in
their near-naked charms. "Don't worry, darling," Pat informed me, as we drew
away, "I won't let them have you."
As soon as we were out of earshot, Aunty Pat informed me: "They used to
work in a domination dungeon I own in Los Angeles but they had to come out to
the desert after their attentions on one of my clients attracted a
complaint to the police. There's no way I'd let you be seen to by them -- they'd
tear your arse to pieces!" My hard-on had disappeared.
Further down the dusty, sandy track Aunty Pat had chosen I felt her start
to sign from her position above me, then she flicked the reins and cried "
Faster, darling, faster, I'm coming!" I moved into a trot, heaving and
straining, sweating beneath my burden until I felt aunt's thighs contract
around my neck as she shuddered to her climax.
Aunty Pat then dismounted and walked beside me for some way, stroking my
cock before making me squat. On the ride back to the house I was once more
urged into a trot when aunty felt another orgasm nearing -- this time not at
all far from the Latino women, who I now noticed had removed their leather
bras, their small brown breasts gleaming in the strong sunlight.
Back at the house, Aunty Pat dismounted, remove the gear from me and
ordered:
"Shoes and sox off and into the pool for laps -- but don't start till
Anita and I get there!" I waited, standing by the edge at the top end of the
pool, its water shimmering in the light. I was sweating and eager to start
swimming.
Some 10 minutes after arriving poolside, I was relieved to hear the sound
of two pairs of high heels clopping across the concrete path leading around
the lawn to the pool. Aunty Pat and Anita -- who that morning I had been
told to address as Miss Anita -- had arrived.
Both wore black stilettos, and both were nude saved for baseball caps,
shading their eyes from the sun. Both appeared to be fans of the Arizona
Diamondbacks, I noted. With some apprehension, I also noted that both were
carrying short leather crops.
Aunty Pat walked over to stand beside me, while Miss Anita went round to
the far end of the pool and stood, hands on hips, feet a foot or so apart. "
Get to the edge, hands up clasped behind your head," snapped aunty. I
stepped forward. "There's your target, when you get there, out of the pool and
worship at Miss Anita's pussy. When she tells you to stop, back on your
feet, facing me. Understood?" I nodded: "Yes aunty."
Suddenly the crop stung against my buttocks and I toppled forward into the
water and free-styled my way to the end, clambered out and pressed my
tongue against Miss Anita's dark-haired minge. For the first time the previous
evening, I tasted her sweet snatch but just as I was starting to enjoy
myself, the bronzed beauty snapped: "Up!" I stood, displaying an erection, and
turned to face back down the pool. There stood my aunty, hands on hips, in
an identical pose to Anita's.
Again my buttocks were thwacked by a crop and I splashed back into the
water. Completing the lap, I struggled from the warm water and began to
perform adoration at Aunty Pat's pussy, tasting her wetness and the wonderful
tangy taste of her sex juices. "Up!" came the command and I was set off back
down the pool by another cut of the crop.
I had completed about 10 laps each way, when I became aware that the two
topless Latino ladies had arrived and were amused spectators, leaning on
garden hoes as they watched my pool discipline. Finally, after some 40 laps --
20 each way -- I was allowed to stop splashing back and forth. I was panting
from my exertions and my buttocks were stinging. Aunty Pat kissed me on
the mouth: "Excellent, now get downstairs and wait for me!"
Part 2:
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By "downstairs" I had no doubt whatsoever that Aunty Pat had intended me
to wait for her in what she termed "the games room", and as I walked off I
saw Aunty Pat talking to the two gardeners. I couldn't hear their
conversation but a peal of laughter from the two younger ladies convinced me that I
had been the subject of their mirth.
I entered the cool basement beneath the house and stepped into the "games
room". I had no idea how long my aunt would take to get down there, but I
knew I should appear ready for her arrival. I thought for a moment and then
decided on what I hoped would be taken as a suitable posture of
submission. Kneeling in the centre of the room, with my knees a couple of feet apart,
my feet behind me touching, I put my hands behind me and clasped my ankles.
Luckily, I did not have long to wait. The door to the room swung open and
in marched my two beautiful dominas. "Aha, it looks like Rick has been
reading all the correct slave training manuals," smiled Aunty Pat, as she saw my
pose.
"Or reading too many femdom magazines!" laughed her friend.
As I looked at the two women, my penis started its by now familiar upwards
surge at the sight of them. Pat had chosen a black latex quarter-cup
brassiere, her 40-inch globes thrusting out in mouth-watering uplift. Black
leather boots which came half way up her lovely brown thighs completed her
attire.
The 30-year-old had selected a sheer black bra which had cut-out sections
at the center of each cup, her nipples brown and erect in the
air-conditioned torture chamber. On her hips a similarly sheer pair of black panties had
a cut away section which revealed her raven-haired mons and pussy lips.
She wore black stilettos.
"Up you get, Rick," said my aunt and as I climbed to my feet, she
instructed:
"Anita, get him hooked up. He's been my pony this morning, now I want to
see if he can prance!"
Anita went to a rack on the wall and produced two leather cuffs, which she
strapped around my wrists. A leather cuff was then clipped around my
throat. She then made me put my wrists beside the throat choker and attached the
D-rings set in the cuffs into metal rings on the choker.
"Now fetch me a buggy whip, darling," said Pat. Anita handed her a long
slender, stiff whip, which must have been all of five feet long. It tapered
to a cruel, thin tip.
"Right Rick," smiled my aunt, "stand to attention, feet together. Now I'
m going to stand to your left. When I flick this little persuader against
your backside, you will lift your right leg until your thigh is horizontal
to the floor. I will then walk around to your right side and the next stroke
means you lower your right leg and raise your left. Simple, eh?"
I nodded: "I understand, aunty." Whether it was "simple" or not I had my
doubts.
"Good," said Aunty Pat, "then we'll begin."
Standing well away from me, Aunty Pat swooshed the buggy whip through the
air and it cut into my buttocks. I lifted my right thigh and tried to
maintain a perfect balance. Then Anita snapped: "Point your foot down daintily
to the floor, Rick!"
I complied. Aunty walked around behind me and when she was level, flicked
the whip against my tush once more. As I lowered my right leg and started
to raise my left Anita sprang into verbal command mode again: "Faster, Rick,
we don't have all day!"
Aunty Pat strolled in front of me and when she was immediately in front of
me she traced the tip of the buggy whip against my cock and balls. I tried
to suppress a giggle and swayed slightly. "Steady, boy," she lectured, "
you don't want to know what I do to prancing ponies who over-balance!"
And so aunty's diabolical little "game" went on, crack, balance, crack,
change legs, balance, tickle of whip against genitals. Soon I was sweating
freely from the discipline. Then, when I hoped for a respite, Aunty Pat
handed the buggy whip to her partner in punishment: "Here you are Nita, you
have a go, while I observe his technique more closely."
Anita took over my correction, if anything striking me slightly harder
with the whip than my aunt.
At last, after what seemed like ages, but in reality could only have been
a quarter of an hour or so, they finished with me.
Aunty Pat unhooked my wrists from the throat collar and kissed me
lingeringly on the mouth, her lovely breasts pressing thrillingly against my
heaving chest. "Wonderful, Rick, I think we'll make a lovely little pony out of
you yet!"
Then she announced: "Time for lunch I think. Then we'll teach you the
pose flogging game!"
Lunch I was looking forward to. Pose flogging? I wasn't too sure about
that!
Aunty's Sex Slave Chapter 3
============================================================================
====
Part 1:
============================================================================
====
After an appetizing lunch, Aunty Pat and Anita Armitage left to get kitted
out in different outfits, which I was soon to find was part of their
penchant for always looking ravishing for their sex slave.
My aunt instructed me to return to the games room and await their return
and I was kneeling in the middle of the chamber when the domination duo
returned.
Aunty Pat had chosen a lustrous black PVC top which covered her shoulders
and breasts, heaving the 40-inch glories into stunning uplift, the nipples
sticking out in the shiny material. On her arms were black, elbow-length
PVC gloves. She went bare-crotched but her legs were encased in gleaming
black leather boots which came half-way up her thighs.
Anita also mouth-wateringly dressed. On her short-cropped brown hair sat a
jaunty little black Muir cap, an open fronted red PVC brassiere thrust her
34-inch breasts forward enticingly and a red satin garter belt held up
shiny black stockings. Red high heels completed her erotic outfit.
I wanted to fuck both of them!
Aunty smiled and held out her hand to get me to stand. "Now my dear," she
announced, "it's time to teach you pose flogging. You're going to do the
posing, we're going to do the flogging. Won't that be fun?"
"Yes, aunty," I replied, "but there's something I want to say."
Aunty looked me directly in the eyes and nodded: "Say away!"
"I want to fuck you, aunty," I said, as fervently as I could.
Aunty Pat frowned. "Oh dear, Nita, it looks like we've got a problem
here. Look, Rick, we're training you to be a sex slave and that's our number
one priority now. We can discuss this `fucking' business later."
Then she smiled at her friend: "Rick here is obviously having a problem
with this." And with that she stroked my eight-inch hard-on. "I think
perhaps the open-fronted posing pouch might help him with his problem." Anita
grinned mischievously at my aunt, who then told her: "Fit it for him, there's
a darling, while I fetch the gear for his pose flogging."
Anita went to a drawer in a table along one wall of the dungeon and
returned holding a little rubber pouch with a sturdy leather strap attached.
Pulling the opening of the rubber garment, she fitted it around my scrotum,
then let go and it snapped into place, gathering my balls in its tight grip.
As Anita adjusted the strap tightly around the base of my cock I felt
hundreds of little pricks starting to inflict themselves on my balls.
Aunty Pat returned carrying a cat o' nine tails and a metal rod like a
golf club, only with leather grips at each end. She surveyed Anita's handiwork
and smiled at me: "There, that should help drive those lustful thoughts
from your naughty mind, my dear. Wasn't that nice of Anita?"
I gulped. "Nice" wasn't the word I had in mind. "Yes, aunty," I
answered. Aunty nodded her agreement. "Yes, it was so nice, I think you should give
her a nice long kiss to say thank-you."
It wasn't an observation, I realised, it was a command, so I stepped over
to the lovely raven-haired lady and went to kiss her on the mouth. Both
Anita and Aunty Pat roared with laughter.
"No, no, no, Rick," said my aunt. "A nice long kiss down here is a
euphemism for cunnilingus." And I looked at Anita who was pointing at her pussy.
I went down on my knees, said "Thank-you, Miss Anita" and started to kiss
her pussy lips, an action which only served to keep my prick stiff and add
to my pain from the punishment pouch.
After a minute or so, Aunty Pat tapped me on the shoulder and said: "That'
s enough, Rick, no need to make a meal of it!" I stood and faced the busty
brunette.
"Here," she said, "take this", and thrust the metal bar into my hands.
It was about four feet long. "This bar will remain in your hands throughout
the session," Aunty Pat explained. "Now in a pose flogging there are three
positions, and you will be ordered to adopt them on the command `Position 1
' and so on." I nodded.
"The first pose is on tip toe," said aunty. "Raise the bar above your
head, arms fully extended and spread your feet about a yard apart - that'll
help with your balance."
I did as I was told, feeling the strain on my calves and thighs as I
assumed the position. "That's the pose," said Aunty Pat, "now all we need is
the flogging." And with that she traced the cat down my back, from shoulders
to buttocks.
The thongs felt cool on my naked flesh. "It's a rubber flogger," Aunty
Pat explained, "which means it won't break the skin and it won't be too
painful - just a light stinging." And then she flicked the flogger between my
spread thighs, the tips of the lashes curling around my rubber-cover balls.
I let out an involuntary "Oooouch" and earned a reprimand from Miss
Anita: "No, Rick, it's `One, thank-you Aunty Pat'."
"Sorry," I apologized, "one, thank-you Aunty Pat." The words were hardly
out of my mouth than the second stroke stung home across my shoulder
blades. I counted properly. Then a third cut into my buttocks.
Every now and again the blow was of such force that I was forced to teeter
forward on tip toe. Already the strain on my legs was starting to tell. I
was sweating freely.
After 10 strokes, Aunty Pat halted and handed the cat to Anita. "Take him
through position two, darling," she instructed and made herself comfortable
on an easy chair to watch the second segment of the flogging.
Miss Anita stepped beside my straining body and said: "Right, slave, feet
a yard apart, then bend over until your hands are grazing the carpet." I
bent over, my back towards Aunty Pat, and presented my arse what I thought
would be a perfect flogging position.
Just then, there was a knock on the door to the chamber. "That'll be the
girls," said Aunty Pat, "I told them I'd let them watch Rick's training
if they finished their chores early." And with that she walked over to the
door and let the two Latin ladies, Pepina and Conchita, into the room.
As they crossed the floor of the games room to be seated on the couch
directly behind my back, I noticed that both had removed their black leather
shorts and were now clad only in black leather g-strings and black high
heels. Their small breasts with the cherry red nipples erect, were bare.
As Pepina and Conchita settled down on the couch, Miss Anita drew her arm
back and flogged the cat down across my tautened buttocks. She continued
the punishment for 10 strokes, then was instructed by Aunty Pat: "Move on to
position number three, now Nita!"
The gardening girls broke into applause at this. "Eees going to like this
one," one of the pair said. "I'm sure he will," said my aunt as Miss Anita
went into command mode.
"On the floor, kneeling with your knees about a yard apart, slave," she
told me. I did so. "Now behind you put your feet together, then place the
rod behind you, lay it across the backs of your ankles and grab it." This
forced my upper torso and genitals into a completely helpless display for my
dominatrix.
Miss Anita stood alluringly before me, her nipples peeping through the
open-fronted PVC bra, her minge brown and inviting. Then she raised the
flogger and cracked it down across my chest. "One, thank-you Miss Anita," I
called out.
"And now this is why you're going to enjoy this position, Rick," I heard
my aunt say from her seat. Anita then moved forward and rubbed her
sweet-smelling pussy across my mouth, before pulling back and delivering another
blow.
"Two, thank-you, Miss Anita," I intoned, and once more was rewarded with
an aromatic pussy being rubbed over my face. This continued for 10 strokes,
then Anita was replaced by my aunt.
She repeated the 10-stroke, 10 pussy lick, punishment-pleasure game and
after the final stroke, I heard a voice from the couch: "May we `ave a go
with `eem, mistress?" Aunty Pat looked down at me and smiled. My mouth fell
agape, aunty had promised to keep the lesbian gardeners away from me!
She realised my confusion, then replied: "Of course you can, girls - 10
strokes each." Before handing the cat o' nine tails to one of the gardeners,
Aunty Pat glanced down at me: "I know I promised to keep you away from the
girls, darling, but I've changed my mind, it's a woman's prerogative, you
know."
Then standing before me was a now-nude gardener - it was Conchita, she
informed me. She had stripped off her g-string to reveal a very dark, slightly
shaven pussy, with shocking pink piss flaps.
Her first stroke fell across my cock and balls. I bit back a shriek and
cried "One, thank-you, Miss Conchita" and the Latina lowered her pussy to my
mouth. It was a strongly-smelling snatch, with a mixture of sex juice,
sweat and urine, all intermingled in an intense aroma.
The 10 strokes were delivered, and as Conchita handed the flogger to her
gardening mate, she remarked: "Look, `ees still `ard - `e likes eet, the
filthy pervert!"
Pepina's pussy was a twin-sister of her colleague's, semi-shaved, dark
with pinkish piss flaps. The taste, too, was strikingly similar, that triple
taste of sex, sweat and piss, and I was both thrilled and disgusted to feel
that throughout the 10-stroke punishment, my penis retained its rigid
erection.
At last the three-pose flogging was over and Aunty Pat, helping me to my
feet, told the girls they could leave. Both stepped up and kissed me on the
cheek, and fondled my stiffness, before leaving the chamber, chuckling.
Part 2:
=====================================================
===========================
>From then on, the days ran into a summery blur. Each morning, after
breakfast, I would be prepared to ride either my aunt, or Anita, out around the
property. Anita was lighter than my aunt, but not by much, so both were a
weight on my shoulders.
On other mornings, for a change, I would be saddled to a pony cart, which
Anita and Aunty sat in while I dragged them around, encouraged from time to
time by a buggy whip stroke across my back or buttocks.
After each "pony" session, I was allowed to cool off in the lovely waters
of the swimming pool, but with the added humiliation of having to haul
myself from the pool at the end of each lap for the obligatory pussy adoration,
then cut with the crop, as a signal to set off on another lap.
Then it was down to the basement games room where Anita or Aunty Pat -
sometimes both - enjoyed playing "games" with me until lunchtime, by which
stage I was (a) rather tired, and (b) extremely hungry.
The afternoon was either spent lounging by the pool or, if either of my
lovely tormentresses was in a teasing mood, in the torture chamber undergoing
punishment and pleasure, sometimes just punishment. From time to time, the
gardeners played the pose flogging game with me, always leaving me in a
state of flustered arousal.
The evening meal was usually followed by a movie session, in which I was
allowed to pick a porno video, while Pat or Anita made a choice, so we
always watched two movies. I, without hesitation, chose a movie with a femdom
theme, because I loved the comments Anita and Aunty Pat passed on the
performances.
Aunty Pat's preferences were usually black and white "film noir" while
Anita's were of the lesbian variety - one which included the gardeners in a
steamy sex session.
One evening, about a week after my arrival, I collapsed into bed and had
almost fallen into a deep sleep, when I felt a rustle of the sheets. Anita
snuggled up alongside me, and lay a warm hand on my cock.
"Your aunt suggested it was time we did something about your problem down
there," she whispered. "She's worried that you may have a case of blue
balls."
I kissed her softly on the mouth and asked: "How old are you, Miss Anita?"
She chuckled. "Why this obsession with age? I'm 30. And my other vital
statistics, which I guess you're also interested in, are 34-25-35. Now, will
you fuck me?"
I did, and for the first time since my visit to Aunty Pat's I was allowed
relief from the longing ache in my poor balls. When I awoke the next
morning, the sun was streaming through the curtains and I was alone.
Part 3:
============================================================================
====
A fortnight after my arrival, the day had followed its usual routine. I
had played the role of "pony" carrying Aunty Pat around on my shoulders,
during which journey she had enjoyed two noisy orgasms.
There had been the lengths of the pool to cool down, punctuated by pussy
adoration at the completion of each lap, and then a session in the games
room - a pose flogging, and a worship session of "perfume" licking from the
two dominatrix's lovely bodies.
After lunch, Miss Anita had ordered me to set up the flogging frame in
front of their poolside recliners. After strapping me into it, she oiled my
naked body and left me hanging there, the hot Arizona sun improving what I
considered to already be a sensational tan.
Later, the two ladies arrived, clad in one-piece PVC playsuits - aunty's
was black, Anita's a vivid red. The suits were both cut away at the breasts,
so their boobs - Pat's large and jolly, Anita's smaller but firmer - were
completely uncovered. The garments' crotches were open view, as well,
allowing me unhindered glimpses of two lovely pussies as they lay back on their
loungers. I felt my prick begin to rise as I gazed on their bodies.
After Aunty Pat and Anita had made themselves comfortable, the two Latin
lovelies, both naked, although they wore black high heels, arrived with an
ice bucket holding a bottle of finest Dom Perignon champagne, and a tray with
two flutes.
As they opened the Dom and poured a glass for Pat and Anita, my aunty made
a call on her mobile. The two gardeners then left the poolside deck and I
heard aunty's side of her call.
"Hi, Ebony, it's me Pat. I'm well. I'm just calling to invite you to a
poolside party tomorrow - I've got a lovely young sex slave nephew, and I
thought I'd show him off. Lovely! See you at midday!"
Aunty Pat then punched in another number. "Hi Paula, it's Pat here. Fine
thanks. Just a quick call to invite you to a poolside party here tomorrow
- midday onwards. I want you to meet my young nephew - he's from London and
he's a sex slave. I think you'll find him cute. Great! See you tomorrow!"
Another number selected, another conversation. "Bobbi - great to hear your
voice, long time, no see. I'm throwing a small but select poolside party
tomorrow to introduce my young nephew to some friends - I'm inviting Ebony
and Paula, too.
"He's 20-years-old and he's a sex slave - you'll adore him. Tomorrow
then?
Midday on. Yup. See ya!"
The calls over, Aunty Pat turned to Miss Anita: "Get him down, there's a
darling." Anita freed me from my place of bondage and I rubbed the
circulation back into my wrists and ankles. Aunty Pat looked up at me, her big
breasts glistening in the hot sun, her thighs brown and burnished. "On your
knees, darling," she ordered and I crouched down beside her lounger.
"Now, since I'm throwing a poolside party in your honor, how about
thanking me, very, very nicely?"
Aunty widened her thighs, allowing me a clear view of her moist minge.
I shuffled closer to her magnificent perfumed place and started to thank
her.
Very, very nicely.
Aunty's Sex Slave Chapter 4
============================================================================
====
The evening before the party, as we relaxed watching one of the femdom
videos I had selected from Aunty Pat's wide selection of porno movies, she
told me about the three ladies who had been invited along to the poolside
party.
"You'll love Ebony," said Aunty Pat, as she gently stroked my eight-inch
erection, while we watched a trio of sexily-clad dommes put a pony boy
through his athletic paces.
"She's a 40-year-old - a black lady, as her name suggests - and she's a
university lecturer," my aunt informed me. "She's got a big body - not
overweight, just big, and she's heavily into watersports, golden showers, you
know."
Indeed, after more than a fortnight at aunty's secluded property, I knew
very well!
"Then Paula - she's a 35-year-old blonde, and she's from England, so you
two should get on," said Aunty Pat. "She's also a rather large lady, and
she specializes in flogging. She's a part-time dominatrix at one of my
dungeons."
Aunty grinned at my look of discomfort. "Don't worry, she's got a new
flogging game you'll just love!" I sincerely hoped so, but somewhat doubted
it!
"And Paula?" I asked, as I watched the pony boy being cruelly disciplined
for some minor infraction during his prancing exercises.
"She's the baby of the group," explained Aunty Pat. "She's 20, a blonde,
rather skinny, hardly any breasts, and she's got a thing about pony boys,
so you'll be perfect for her."
Again I looked apprehensive. "Don't worry, darling," my aunt reassured
me, "she's quite light - but she will expect several orgasms during a ride!"
Dominas riding me and expecting orgasms was nothing new to me, now!
"And if you're wondering where Bobbi fits into the picture, she's Ebony'
s personal assistant at the university and works part-time with Paula at
one of my dungeons."
Party day dawned clear and hot and I was ordered to arrange five recliners
in a circle surrounding a black rubber mat, just off by the pool. Conchita
and Pepina were also in attendance, dressed in saucy little black latex
bikinis and high heel boots, to act as waitresses for the five dominas.
Just before midday a car arrived carrying the three guests and Aunty Pat
ordered me into a kneeling position in the center of the mat, my naked body
glistening with sun tan lotion. She then went to greet her visitors,
leaving Conchita and Pepina bearing drinks trays, and me kneeling on the mat.
Some minutes later, five women emerged from the back of Aunty Pat's
spacious home and walked across the lawn to accept drinks from Conchita and
Pepina.
>From my aunt's descriptions, it was easy to identify who was who. Ebony
was a big black woman, naked save for gleaming black leather boots which came
so far up her magnificently marbled thighs they were almost in danger of
stroking against her prominent pink piss flaps.
Her snatch was shaved, only a thin layer of crinkly black hair glistening
around her sex lips and on her mons. Her breasts must have been as big, if
not bigger, than my aunt's 40-inchers, with stunningly-hard nipples
surrounded by wide areola. Her hair was bunched up in Afro-style and she was
grinning broadly as she looked at me, kneeling in submission, my stiffy waving
before me.
After accepting a glass of bubbly from one of the garden girls, she
stepped onto the mat and knelt beside me. "Hi babe," she smiled, stroking my
erection. "Do you like golden showers?"
I gulped a "Yes, very much, Mistress Ebony" reply.
She continued: "And eating pussy?"
"Yes, Mistress Ebony," I answered.
She gave my cock another caress. "Great, then we'll get along just fine!"
she said before rejoining the group.
Next, I was approached by Paula, a woman who my father would have
described as "a blowsy, barmaid" type, her blonde hair dragged back in a severe
ponytail, her cheeks rouged.
She was busty but her breasts were encased in a tight red leather bra. A
matching red leather garter belt was slung around her middle, holding up
black stockings. Bright red leather boots which came half-way up her big
thighs completed her outfit. Her pussy was totally free of pubic hair, her sex
lips thick and pendulous.
"'Ello, darlin'," she said, in a broad London accent, "my name's Paula.
I'm lookin' forward to floggin' you - won't that be fun, eh?"
I nodded: "Yes, Mistress Paula."
That left the 20-year-old Bobbi, to greet me. She was wearing a jaunty
little satin jockey's cap on her head, a shiny black PVC bra covering her
hardly-there tits, and black leather riding boots. In one of her leather-gloved
hands was a cruel-looking little riding crop.
Bobbi knelt close to me, so I could stare at her pussy, covered in a light
wisp of fairish hair, the piss flaps peeping through her unshaven but
sparse thatch. "I do hope you like being a pony boy, because I love having
orgasms on slave's necks," she said, smiling at me, our faces nearly
touching.
"I like being ridden, Mistress Bobbi," I replied.
As she stroked my hard-on, she laughed: "Great, because I'm going to play
with you first!"
I was then left to kneel in the sun, while the three guests and Aunty Pat
and Anita - both wearing skimpy little PVC bikinis and high heels - lay
around chatting, and drinking.
Later, Aunty Pat approached me, carrying a pair of white sox and sneakers.
"Get these on your feet, Rick, Bobbi wants to go for a ride," she
informed me, throwing the sox and sneakers down on the mat in front of me.
After I was "shod", Bobbi made me squat while she placed a short pair of
reins and a red rubber bit in my mouth. When she had straddled me, I was
ordered to rise. It was easy - she was much lighter than Aunty Pat. I felt her
pussy snuggling against the nape of my neck.
When she was comfortably mounted and I had a good grip of her booted feet,
I felt a sharp sting of her crop against my left buttock, followed by a
terse "Walk on!" I started off, with Bobbi making me do a couple of laps
around the lawn to encouraging calls from the audience, before pointing me out
into the property and away from the house.
As I ascended a smooth incline which led away from the house and the pool,
Bobbi's gasps indicated that she was in imminent orgasm mode, and as we
crested the ridge and out of sight of the group left by the pool, my rider
cracked me across the buttocks and ordered: "Faster!"
I obeyed and soon the 20-year-old had thrust her body against my sweating
neck in a noisy climax. As Bobbi recovered from her excitement, she allowed
me to slow, then dismounted and walked beside me for a while, stroking my
cock with a gloved hand.
"Shit, that was fun," the young secretary and part-time dominatrix said.
"University is boring, and sometimes just getting slaves ready for Paula
can be a chore - but riding a pony boy, that's what I call pleasure!"
I nodded, the rubber bit still firmly in place.
Bobbi then re-mounted me and we went off deeper into Aunty Pat's property,
until she had enjoyed two more orgasms before reining me to a halt back at
poolside. I was panting and sweating, as she dismounted and told Aunty
Pat: "Thanks, Pat, he's a lovely pony boy!"
Pat grinned: "OK Bobbi, any time - now why don't you and Rick strip off
and have a nice dip in the pool, and then we'll get him ready for a session
with Paula?"
Bobbi and I stripped and swam for a while, until Aunty Pat called out: "OK
Rick, time for your whipping!" I heaved myself from the pool, toweled down
and presented myself to the blonde London dominatrix.
Paula had a metal spreader bar ready, which she attached to my ankles,
forcing my legs wide apart. A heavy leather yoke was then placed across my
neck and shoulders, and my arms and wrists strapped down onto it.
The English whip expert then produced a black marker pen and a four-foot
long whip, with a leather flap at the punishment end which must have been
all of four inches square.
"I'm going to mark my targets, darlin'," announced the English woman.
Then, using the leather flap from the flogger as a template, she drew "
targets" onto my naked flesh until there were 10 black-marked squares outlined
on me.
The boxes were around my nipples, one on my belly, one on my abdomen, one
on each inside thigh, one on each buttock and one on each shoulder blade.
Paula stepped back to admire her handiwork, and proclaimed herself
satisfied. Then she picked up the flogger and stepped off to one side. Aunty Pat,
I noticed, had produced a video camcorder and was filming my predicament.
"I'm now goin' to flog our lovely young man from position one through to
10," Paula told her audience. "So I'll start at `is nipples, then belly,
abdomen, thighs, `is back and finally `is buttocks. If you ladies would
like to count as I go along, that's fine with me. Fine with you, slave?"
I nodded, what else could I say?
Paula then stood in front of me, measured her distance and cracked the
flogger against my left nipple. A searing pain shot through my chest.
The audience, as one, chanted "One!" Then my other nipple was struck. "
Two!" cried the spectators. Both blows were perfectly placed on the squares
Paula had marked.
And so she worked her way around my naked body, each time striking me with
the flogger's flap perfectly on the square indicated - I can say that
because I've seen the video!
After she had finished, Paula turned to her audience and asked: "OK, `oo
wants a go?"
Ebony leapt from her recliner and grabbed the whip. Her first stroke wasn'
t perfectly placed, and Paula pointed it out. Ebony frowned: "It's not as
easy as it looks."
Paula laughed: "Try it again, darlin." This time, the blow struck my
marked target over the left nipple perfectly.
After Ebony, who had to repeat her strokes several times before she landed
a perfect strike, Aunty Pat had a go, and was much more proficient. Anita
followed, then my aunt announced: "OK, that's enough flogging for a while
- Ebony, time for your specialty!"
The strikingly-built black domme stepped onto the mat, her leather boots
gleaming, breasts bouncing. "On your back, big boy," she sneered and pushed
me on my chest so I fell back onto the mat.
Ebony stood above me, her snatch gleaming in the light. "Now we've
established that you like golden showers and eating pussy, haven't we, slave?"
she said.
"Yes, Mistress Ebony," I answered.
A sneer came across her face: "You'd better not be lying, slut!" Then she
barked: "Legs and thighs close together!" I obeyed and Ebony then knelt
until she was squatting above my groin.
When she was ready, the lovely lecturer let loose with a strong stream of
urine, which splashed warmly across my cock and balls, until it formed a
yellow lake above my genitals which overflowed down my hips onto the mat.
After she had completed pissing on me, Ebony lowered her crotch until her
pussy was firmly in place on my shaft and then she rode her snatch up and
down on my piss-drenched cock and balls.
When she was satisfied that had done that for long enough, she knelt up
above my face and with a haughty, sneering smile commanded: "Eat me, slave!"
Her strongly-smelling pussy was then on my face, its urine-soaked contours
giving off a strong aroma.
As I worked on her big-lipped minge I heard a cry from one of the audience
- it was the Londoner: "Well knock me darn wiv a fever - look at the
filthy pervert, `es got a fuckin' hard-on!"
It was true. Despite the humiliating task set me by Mistress Ebony my cock
was standing rigidly to attention. When she heard that news, the black
beauty pulled away from my soaked mouth and said: "Time I freshened up a
little, baby." She then lowered her pussy onto my groin once more graunched
around before again presenting her piss-perfumed pussy to my mouth.
Again, after a few moments of licking her there, I heard the appalling
flog artiste call out: "Whatta fuckin' pervert - look, he's still fuckin' `
ard, the dirty little sod!"
After her latest foray onto my face, Ebony called out: "Anyone want to
freshen his cock and balls up for me?"
I couldn't tell who it was who stood over my midriff and exploded a strong
stream of urine onto me, but from subsequent viewing of the video I can
say now it was the whip-wielding Paula.
This time, Ebony did not soak her pussy with my urine-drenched cock and
balls but rubbed her lovely large breasts all over them, before presenting
the gleaming globes to my mouth.
As I sucked, licked and laved at her boobs, the loud-mouthed Londoner was
at it again with her comments: "Oooh, look at `im, as `ard as a copper's
truncheon, the fuckin' perv!"
And so the poolside party continued. Pony rides for Bobbi, whipping
demonstrations from Paula and pussy and breast adoration for Ebony
Finally, as the Arizona evening brought cooler conditions, Aunty Pat
called a halt to the punishment party, and everyone trooped inside for a fine
meal, before the domination trio departed, each one promising me to visit
again.
Paula and Bobbi? I didn't care if I never set eyes on them again. One was
flat-chested and far too young - now I realize, of course, that I crave the
domination of an older lady. The other was a loud-mouthed tart - great
body, but none of the erotic style needed to make a slave like me hard.
But Ebony was another story. As I kissed her good-bye, I whispered: "
Please come back tomorrow, please!"
She smiled at me and in a lovely husky voice replied: "Like they say in
the movies, baby, tomorrow is another day!"
Aunty's Sex Slave Chapter 5
============================================================================
====
A couple of days after the poolside party and my embarrassingly gauche
protestation of love for the statuesque Ebony, the 40-year-old black
university lecturer, Aunty Pat, Anita and I were sitting having breakfast when the
phone rang.
Aunty spoke for several minutes, then hung up. "That was the general,"
she told Anita. "He needs us for a session."
Then she turned to me: "The general is a rather kinky old gentleman who
sometimes calls on our expertise for a lengthy session of punishment games. I'
d tell him I was busy with my lovely young nephew from London, but he pays
far too well to ignore."
I nodded. "I'm sure I can enjoy myself while you're away, aunty," I told
her.
Aunty Pat smiled: "Yes, but I'm afraid those fucking gardeners of mine
will enjoy themselves, too, and I don't trust them with you. I'm concerned
they'll be too rough, my dear Rick. No, I have an alternative plan."
And with that, she picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Hi, Ebony, it'
s me, Pat. I wonder if you can do me a favor?"
I listened with great interest. My penis started to thump in my shorts as
I listened to Aunty Pat's side of the conversation.
"Anita and I are needed out at the general's and since you live about a
10-minute drive away, I was wondering whether you'd mind baby sitting young
Rick for the day."
I crossed my fingers as my aunt listened to the response. Then I felt a
wave of euphoria creeping over me as Aunty Pat replied: "Great, we'll drop
him off at your place in an hour. Probably pick him up around 6 this
evening, byeee."
Aunty Pat grinned at me, noting the anticipation on my face. "Your
favorite domme would love to look after you for the day," she smiled.
"She's got one of her students over for a `tutorial', as she calls them,
later in the morning, but reckons it will be an educational experience for
you. Now, off you go, shave that cock and balls smooth, then be ready to go
in 20 minutes."
I flashed into my bedroom shower cubicle, shaved - my face and down there
- and presented myself in the lounge. Aunty and Anita were both dressed for
a drive, Anita in a little chauffeur's outfit, Aunty in a black leather
miniskirt and severe white blouse, which presented her 40-inch straining
breasts superbly.
Aunty smiled and stepped forward, holding a bright red rubber cape, with
only an aperture for one's head to go through. She slipped it over me, the
rubber rustling as it made contact with my bare skin, cold but slippery. She
adjusted the neck collar so it was secure but not tight, then stepped back.
"Perfect, darling," she laughed, "just what the domme ordered! Have a
look at yourself in the mirror."
I walked to a full length mirror in one side of the large lounge and saw
the cape came to just below knee height. And then I saw something that I'd
missed when aunty had draped the garment over me. In black lettering across
the upper chest of the cape was the word "Slave".
"OK, Rick," said aunty, when I had finished admiring the humiliating garb
in the mirror, "pick up our two day bags and bring them out to the car, we'
re off!"
I picked up two bags which obviously contained aunty and Anita's
domination gear for the session with the general, and took them out and stowed them
in the capacious boot of the Lincoln Town car. Anita got behind the wheel,
and aunty indicated I should join her in the back seat.
Laying back against the black leather seat, aunty hiked her mini up over
her haunches and I could see that we was not wearing panties. She put a hand
beneath the hem of my ridiculous rubber cape and felt my stiff cock.
"Right, Rick," she smiled, as Anita steered the big Lincoln out of the
driveway at the end of the mile-long approach to the property, "I estimate
the trip to Ebony's should be about a two orgasm ride."
I nodded, aware that Aunty Pat's statement was also a command, and sank
down onto the vehicle's lush carpeted floor and placed my mouth against my
aunt's smooth and saturated snatch.
Aunty Pat must have enjoyed cunnilingus on rides to Ebony's on previous
occasions, for after her first orgasm she allowed me up onto the seat while
she stroked by eight-inch stiffy for a few minutes, then ordering me back
into action. She was just coming down from the high plateau of her second
climax, when I felt the Lincoln turn off the road onto a driveway.
Aunty smoothed her skirt down, stepped from the car and took me by the
hand. I hesitated, looking around the street, fearful of being seen in my
humiliating costume, but there was no one in sight.
Hand in hand we walked the few yards to the front door where Ebony was
waiting, clad in a toweling robe.. She ushered us in, pecked Aunty Pat on the
cheek, looked at me and laughed: "Ridiculous outfit, Rick - it suits you. I
think I might make you wear it all day."
Aunty Pat then bid her farewells, telling her friend: "He's all yours
till around 6 or 7 this evening, darling. And thanks so much for babysitting
him for us." And with a swift kiss on my cheek, she was gone.
"Follow me, Rick," said Ebony and the lushly-built 40-year-old led me
into her kitchen area, then dropped the robe from her stunning body and stood
nude before me, her breasts high and heavy, nipples starkly erect, trimmed
bush dark and curlingly-inviting at her snatch.
She threw me a quarter-cup leather bra which was lying on the kitchen
table. "I know young studs like you are masters at removing ladies' bras,
Rick, but let's see how good you are at putting `em on."
I placed the bra beneath her heavy, natural breasts and ran the slender
black leather straps over her shoulders before clipping the back of the
garment.
She adjusted the sexy garment slightly and kissed me on the mouth, at the
same time running one hand beneath my cape and fondling my erection. "Well
done, stud, now the garter belt," she whispered in my ear.
The belt was made of matching black leather and I adjusted it over her
lovely hips. Ebony then stepped into a pair of red PVC stockings, which gleamed
on her lovely legs in shocking contrast to the black leather of her two
other garments. I was made to attach the garter belt straps to the
stockings.
Finally, she pulled on a pair of ankle-length black booties which gave her
almost the same height as me, then led me onto a couchette at the side of
the kitchen.
"Now, let me tell you about my lovely student, the naughty Nikki," she
said, pouring me a cup of black coffee. "She's 19-years-old, body to die for
and my best pupil. She's also a raving masochist. You'll like her."
I also liked the way Ebony was stroking my cock. "But I'm a slave,
mistress, it says so here," I protested, pointing to the lettering on my rubber
cape.
"Cut out the `mistress' crap, Rick," she snapped. "This morning you're
going to do what I tell you to do with Nikki and in the afternoon I'm gonna
fuck your brains out - among other things. Clear?"
I nodded: "Yes, mistress."
Ebony glared: "I said cut out the `mistress' crap, for fuck's sake."
Suddenly, the door bell rang once, twice, sounding urgent. "That'll be
our naughty Nikki," said Ebony, pushing away her coffee mug. "Sit there, I'
ll bring her in, do the introductions and then we'll go down to the games
room - nowhere near as luxurious as your aunty's, but it serves the purpose."
Soon Ebony was back with a shortish little brunette, with close-cropped
hair, big brown eyes and what appeared to be a figure that would put a horn
on a corpse.
"Rick, this is Nikki," said the university lecturer, "she comes for a
tutorial - only it usually turns out to be a correctional!"
Nikki laughed and smiled a huge, come-fuck-me smile. "Hi Rick, pleasure to
meet you - love that outfit!"
I blushed beetroot red. Then Nikki stepped forward and held out her hand
to shake mine. She was wearing a little T-shirt which strained across her
busty 34-inch breasts. The logo on it read "I'm not perfect, but parts of me
aren't bad!" The logo was a lie - she was perfect.
A little white tennis skirt came achingly high on her sun-tanned legs,
little white sox and sparklingly-new Nike trainers completed her outfit.
"Have a feel, Nikki, he won't mind," said Ebony, and the young woman
placed a delightfully small hand beneath my cape and stroked along my eight
inches of rigid cock.
"Wow, Miss Ebony," she cried, "he's really rather nice. And uncut!"
Ebony smiled. "Yes, you can explore him more intimately in a short while.
Now, let's get you stripped and we can go down to the basement."
I stood, mouth gaping, as Nikki placed her study books on the kitchen
table, peeled off her T-shirt to reveal mouth-watering breasts, full, round
globes, which even without the confines of a bra were bunched so as to be
touching in the cleavage region.
She unzipped her tennis skirt, threw it on the couchette alongside her
T-shirt and stepped out of a tiny pair of white knickers. Her mons was covered
in a trimmed brown thatch, but the rest of her pubes were shaved, just
leaving a light brown line around the outer sex lips. My cock strained at the
rubber cape, producing a tent-like effect as Nikki turned to present a
glorious arse to my view while she bent to remove her sox and shoes. From her
tan it was obvious that she sunbathed naked!
"Right, let's go," said Ebony, leading the way in her quarter-cup bra,
garter belt and PVC stockings, me in my humiliating red rubber cape and
Nikki, totally nude.
Once inside the games room- nowhere near as large as Aunty Pat's but
containing most of the requisite equipment as far as I could see - Ebony walked
to an easy chair, sat back in it and splayed her legs wide, thighs resting
on its arms.
"Time for my first orgasm of the day, Nikki," she announced. "Get to work.
" The 19-year-old quickly knelt in front of the statuesque black woman's
pussy and began to lick at her exposed charms.
"Interesting, Rick," said Ebony, "her first target of attention is my
anus. What do you make of that?"
I pondered. "Er, that's she's a true submissive, Miss Ebony," I
responded, using Nikki's form of address for the dominatrix.
Ebony laughed. "A typical slave's response, dear Rick," she said, "
always trying to rationalize submissiveness. Haven't you considered it could
just be that she likes the tangy taste of my arsehole?"
But a reply from me became unnecessary as Ebony reacted to Nikki's change
of direction. "Ooooh, yes, lick my cunt, push your tongue up it, Nikki,
higher!" cried Ebony.
Moments later, Ebony was urging her slave on again: "Time to caress that
clit, Nikki, piss flaps first, lovely, lovely, now the clit, yes, yes!" And
very soon, the lovely black domina was moaning and grunting as her climax
rocked her.
After she had calmed down, Ebony pushed the lovely 19-year-old's face from
her pussy and smiled down at her: "Time for the pillory, my pet. Be so
kind as to bring it center stage!" Nikki brought the pillory, which had four
sets of castor wheels set in the base for portability, into the middle of
the room. Ebony, in the meantime, had placed a metal bowl on the carpeted
floor and was squatting over it. I watched with fascination as the 40-year-old
let loose a strong stream of piss which must have flowed for at least 45
seconds.
She then stood and Nikki picked up the bowl and set it in a holder on the
main support plank of the pillory, immediately below the opening for a
prisoner's head. The girl then knelt in front of her domina and, after Ebony
had spread her stance with feet wide, she licked lovingly at the woman's
pussy.
"OK, into place, my darling," said Ebony, and Nikki bent her upper body
and placed her wrists and neck in the cut outs on the pillory's upper beam,
while Ebony lowered the upper half and bolted her into place. Nikki's upper
body was now horizontal to the floor, her superb breasts hanging
gloriously.
"Now, while I breast feed this lovely little slave, you go down on your
knees Rick and taste her pussy - tell me if she's aroused," Ebony commanded.
I quickly knelt behind the stunning arse and ran my tongue over her
puckered little anus before going down to her cunt lips. The student's pussy was
awash with sex juice! "She's very, very aroused, Miss Ebony," I reported.
"Good, then feed her those eight inches you're so proud of," said the
black woman. I stood, then heard the domina add: "And take off that fuckin'
stupid cape!"
I did and then, stiffy swaying and dripping pre-cum, I stepped behind the
lovely slave's backside and held her hips before guiding my cock into her
smooth little cunt.
As I thrust back and forth, I saw that Ebony was seated on a stool in
front of the pillory and was dipping her breasts into the bowl of urine, then
presenting her globes to Nikki for oral adoration.
Soon I started to pant as I felt the excitement of an orgasm begin to
course through my thrusting body and Ebony ordered: "Pull out, Rick, not time
to come yet."
I pulled my cock, its helmet now pink and naked as the tightness of Nikki'
s cunt had pulled the foreskin back to the ring, away from her sweet
snatch. "Bring that thing round here," ordered Ebony.
I stood beside the black woman. "There, Nikki, how'd you like to taste
that?"
Ebony asked her pilloried prisoner.
Nikki grinned at us: "I'd like it just fine, Miss Ebony!"
Ebony placed a hand on my arse and pushed me towards the girl's face. Her
mouth closed over my cock head, sucking sweetly on its rigidity. Then Ebony
spoke again: "Dip it in the bowl, Rick, give her a fresh taste treat!"
I dipped about half the length of my cock into the warm yellow liquid and
presented it back to the slave. Nikki opened her mouth and again swallowed
me, thirstily sucking on my stiffness.
"And again," ordered Ebony, and once more I immersed my cock head in the
urine.
Nikki lapped on it.
"Right, time to warm that cheeky little arse of hers," said Ebony. "You'
ll find her favorite paddle on the equipment bench - it's got the letters
NN stamped on the end."
I picked it up and hefted it. It was quite heavy. "Give her 25 strokes
while she laps up the rest of this piss," said Ebony, dipping one of her large
breasts into the bowl.
I stepped behind Nikki's glorious arse and began to flog her buttocks, not
going too swiftly and not too hard. I'd given her about 10, when Ebony
stood up from the stool in front of Nikki and took the paddle from me.
"I'll finish her off, you give her that piece of meat again - and Rick?"
I paused, as I adjusted my cock, pulling the foreskin back up to cover my
helmet. "Yes, Miss Ebony?"
Ebony smiled broadly: "This time you can come!"
I stood in front of Nikki's mouth and when I heard the first "Thwack" as
the woman whipped the paddle onto the slave's arse, I placed my cock in her
mouth.
Nikki sucked on it eagerly, and by the time Ebony had burned the 25th
stroke onto the girl's arse, I was grunting with pleasure as my ejaculate
spurted through my shaft to explode down her throat.
Ebony looked across at me and grinned. "See, Rick, there's something to
this domination thing, isn't there?"
Aunty's Sex Slave Chapter 6
============================================================================
====
Aunty Pat and Anita called to collect me for the return drive home around
7pm. Ebony had been true to her word and had "fucked my brains out" after
lunch, with the occasional visit to her torture chamber for some
punishment games. So I was pretty exhausted by the time the car arrived to pick me
up!
Luckily, so was aunty! She and Anita had spent a hectic day satisfying the
general's demands, so Aunty Pat only demanded one relaxing bout of
cunnilingus from me on the drive home.
The next morning, after breakfast, I put on sox and a pair of Nike
trainers for my pony boy session, which was carried out this time by Anita, who
enjoyed three orgasms on our way round the route.
She allowed me to enjoy a relaxing plunge in the pool when we returned,
and was standing by in a shiny little PVC bikini ready to hand me my towel
when I emerged naked from the water.
As I dried, Anita informed me: "Report to your aunt's bedroom, she wants
to talk to you."
I knocked on aunty's door and entered. Aunty Pat was sitting on the side
of the bed wearing her stunning PVC playsuit, with its open front for her
breasts and crotch. It was her favorite outfit for punishment games.
Aunty looked at me and patted the bed beside her. "Sit here, darling,"
she said, in a low voice. I did so.
Then she turned and looked intently into my eyes before kissing me gently
on the cheek. "I'm afraid I've got some very bad news, Rick, very bad
indeed," she told me.
I was only 20 at the time, but I wasn't stupid. I knew immediately it
concerned my father. "What's happened to my father, Pat?" I asked.
"I'm afraid he's dead, darling," she replied. "I've just had a call
from your stepmom, something about a yellow sports car and a truck on the M4,
is it?"
I nodded dumbly. The yellow sports car would be the Lamborghini, which
father always drove too fast for his expertise. Then the tears began to flood
down my cheeks.
Aunty Pat leaned against me, patted me on the head, soothingly, and I
pressed my face against her lovely big boobs, my tears cascading over them.
Then, to my surprise, I felt myself licking and kissing at aunty's big
breasts. My tears were still flowing, but for some reason I needed to obtain
comfort from her lovely 40-inch mammaries. I licked and sucked and soon her
nipples were hard to my touch.
I pushed aunty back onto the bed, then climbed aboard, amazed at how, in
such a moment of grief, my cock could stand up to rigid attention. Aunty
sighed as I plunged into her and then she resumed stroking my head, comforting
me with small words, as I pumped and pumped my way to a pulsating
ejaculation.
The next day, I was packed and Anita, dressed once more in her sharp
little chauffeur's outfit, and Aunty Pat, dressed in very formal black, took me
all the way to Los Angeles for a night flight to London.
I was met at Heathrow by Johnson, father's faithful retainer, in the Rolls
- why couldn't father have been driving the Rolls on the M4? - and we
drove to the Mayfair apartments, where my stepmother was waiting.
Karla, a stunningly-attractive 35-year-old brunette, was dressed in a
simple, stark little black dress which did nothing to hide her fine figure. Her
big brown eyes were red and rimmed with tears and exhaustion. She gave me a
tender hug, the first time she had ever showed me any outward emotion.
On the table in the lounge newspapers were scattered, The Times, the
Guardian, the Daily Telegraph and the tabloids, all with large stories about
father.
The heavier papers carried obituaries on him, and the Telegraph even had a
mention for me. "The dashing 20-year-old Rick, like his father a devotee
of fast cars and fast women on the night club circuit, is destined to take
over his father's empire," it raved. Stupid fucking obituary writers!
The funeral was, thank goodness, a quiet affair, although several members
of Fleet Street's finest managed to snap picture of my poor stepmother in
all her grief, the bastards!
About a week after the funeral, Mr. Snipcock arrived at our Mayfair
apartments. My father's trusted solicitor was ushered into the apartments by
Johnson and received by my stepmother and myself in what had been father's
office.
Mr. Snipcock read the will, and quite honestly it was all way above my
head. I was trained in engineering, not legalese, so at the end of his dreary
recitation, I asked: "Now, Mr. Snipcock, could you please translate into
simple English for me and, I assume, my mother."
The doddery old solicitor smiled indulgently and nodded: "Of course,
Master Rick. It will be my pleasure.
"Your father has left his homes in Paris, Wentworth, Manhattan and Sydney,
Australia, along with these rooms in Mayfair to your mother, plus an
annuity of 10 million pounds. "He has left the residue of the estate, his
industrial empire, his fleet of cars - er, minus the Lamborghini, of course - to
you. You will receive an annuity of 20,000 pounds a year until you are 30
years of age.
"In that time, you will be under the care of your mother, who will
administer the expenditure of your annuity. You are, in effect, to be her ward
until you reach 30. Then the estate devolves to you, except the properties, of
course."
My stepmother stood and smoothed her dress over her lovely thighs and bum.
"I think it's all very straight forward, Mr. Snipcock," she said in her
slight American drawl. "Thank you for coming, Johnson will show you out."
She rang a bell and Johnson arrived to remove the old man from our
presence.
Karla then turned to me. "When that slimy old bastard has left, you can
give Johnson the rest of the day off. I don't want him snooping around. And
when Johnson's gone, I want you in here - nude!"
The word "nude" rang out like a pistol shot. And then, of course, it
dawned on me. I was now under her control! And her first example of that
control was to order me to report to her naked!
Johnson eagerly accepted his day off, there was a race meeting at Ascot he
wanted to attend and could he take the Rolls? I gave him permission and he
was soon out of the house. In my bedroom I stripped and was interested to
see that the thought of reporting to Karla naked had caused me to have an
erection.
I tapped on the door to my father's study - now her study! - and heard her
answer "Come!" I stepped inside and closed the door.
Karla smiled at my nudity and the erection it revealed. "Very nice, Rick,"
she commented, "bring that thing over here."
I walked to where she was seated, and she spun the swivel chair around and
placed her mouth over the helmet of my erection and sucked sweetly on it.
Christ, she had a great mouth!
Pulling back, Karla then handed me an envelope. "There's a letter in
there which Aunty Pat put into your baggage before the flight from LA," she
informed me. "Remove it and read it to me."
I found the letter and pulled it out, then placed the envelope back on my
father's - wrong, again, HER desk. I started to read. This was the letter:
"Darling Sis,
Hope everything is clearing up for you now after the awful bereavement.
Here, as you requested, is my report on Rick's slave training.
We were lucky to find on his arrival that he was into lovely ladies and
female domination, so it was easy to get his training started, although even
if he hadn't bought the magazine in that LA sex shop, we'd have found
another excuse very quickly!
Young Rick is extremely useful at cunnilingus and gives lovely orgasms.
Anita - she sends her love, by the way - says he is also a very competent
fuck, although I can only report on one fuck from him, which occurred under
somewhat trying circumstances, so I will excuse the rapidity with which he
came.
He is an accomplished pony boy and with very strong shoulders and neck
muscles can provide his rider with several orgasms during a lengthy ride.
Young Rick is very stoic when undergoing floggings and can even maintain
an erection during many whip games. He is also quite capable of staying
erect during mild cock and ball torture!
He also has a penchant - hope I've spelled that right - for water sports,
keeping a hard-on while worshipping at piss-smeared pussy and even while
drinking the stuff! You're going to be a very lucky lady!
I hope you approve of the way he's been trained. I look forward to working
him over with you when I visit in a month or two.
All the best, your loving sis.
Patricia."
"Thank-you, Rick," smiled my stepmother, "that was an excellent report
card. You have obviously been a very capable student, but then I thought you
would."
I was still stunned by the fact that it had obviously been Karla's
intention all along to have me turned into a slave!
Karla then picked up the envelope and shook dozens of glossy color prints
from it. She pored over them for some while, asking me questions about some
of them, wanting to know who some of the participants were.
"Who's this?" she asked, pointing to a print showing Ebony smearing me
with her pussy on the rubber mat, the first time I had met her.
"Ebony," I replied.
"Ebony, mother," snapped Karla.
"Sorry," I stammered, "Ebony, mother." "Ah yes, she's the black bird
you fancy," smiled Karla. "And yes, this next picture shows you with a very
nice hard on as you work on her smelly pussy. Wonderful!"
And with that, Karla stood and turned her back to me. "Unzip me, Rick,"
she ordered, and with trembling fingers I ran the zip at the nape of her
neck down.
As it ran past her shoulder blades I saw gleaming black satin straps, then
over the small of her back more gleaming black satin from her garter belt.
I ran the zip down to the hem of the dress and saw that she was not
wearing panties! Her buttocks were sensational!
"Throw it on that chair, Rick," said Karla and I obeyed, tossing the
little black dress away.
The long-legged beauty then turned to face me - and I fell in love! Her
bra was a quarter cup job, revealing lovely firm breasts - at 36 inches
nowhere near the size of Aunty Pat's but incredibly mouth-watering nonetheless.
Karla obviously shaved her pussy. There was merely a small splotch of dark
brown hair at her mons. Beneath it her sex was shaved, the lips red and
inviting.
Her lovely legs were encased in gleaming black seamed stockings. Her black
high heeled stilettos similarly were agleam in the study's bright
lighting.
"Kneel, Rick," said Karla, trying but failing to hide the excitement in
her voice.
I knelt below her, my cock straining and aching for her touch once more.
Then she placed one foot up on the chair by the desk, completely exposing
herself to my gaze, her calf shapely in the black sheath of the stocking.
"Kiss me," she ordered.
I raised my head to her pussy and kissed at the sweet-smelling snatch.
"I think I'll start the way I intend to carry on," Karla said, looking
down at me in a haughty manner that I was soon to know very well.
"Open wide!"
I opened my mouth. She urinated.
And she tasted just like Aunty Pat .....
Aunty's Sex Slave Epilogue:
============================================================================
====
That was all 16 years ago. I've now inherited the industrial empire and my
stepmother, now an extremely attractive 51-year-old has remarried, some
Swiss watch tycoon. I think he's a submissive!
Anita saved her earnings from Aunty Pat and has now opened an extremely
discreet dungeon premises in Beverly Hills. I visit from time to time and
enjoy her services. She's put on a bit of weight, but she's still a great
fuck - and a great domina!
Aunty Pat still lives at the place outside Flagstaff, is now 54 and hasn't
put on an ounce. She's married to some Hollywood mogul. I hardly ever see
her, her visits to Karla are in Geneva and I understand the movie mogul is
a possessive type. Knowing Aunty Pat, I'd also bet he's a submissive type,
too!
Ebony - now 56 - now lectures around the world on her specialty subject,
the rapidly-diminishing Amazon rain forest. She also appears often on
television discussing the rape of the jungle and has written a book. I still have
the pictures of her playing with me all those years ago.
The little Latino gardeners were arrested by the police. The man they'd
been over-zealous with in the brothel had hired a private detective to track
them down, but he dropped charges when they agreed to be deported. Both now
work in a Mexico City brothel, double teaming as "The Princesses of Pain".
Whatever happened to Paula and Bobbi I don't know, and don't care.
I am married to a lovely little blonde, some 10 years younger than me, and
we have two delightful children. She has absolutely no interest in
dominating me, but then a lot of wives don't, do they?
I maintain my interest in female domination by using a large house
specially equipped for the role in a quiet part of Reading. There I can whistle up
on call an exquisite black lady - as a reminder of Ebony - a lovely young
blonde and a raven-haired young Asiatic beauty. Each is extremely capable
when it comes to female domination!
On top of all that, I sometimes find the need to masturbate. I'm not
unfaithful, like so many masturbators, who need vast libraries of porn to keep
them going in the stroking department.
I still stick with that wonderful femdom magazine I purchased all those
years ago in LA. You may remember me mentioning it, it was entitled Mistress
Knows Best.
I'll say she does!